


This Is Your Song

by CaseyF



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Song Lyrics, a cappella music, cameo by imaginary Jon Bon Jovi, potential homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyF/pseuds/CaseyF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack thought he'd seen everything life has to offer. Ianto and his group of friends prove Jack wrong. Ended up as a bit of a sequel to "Oh, Happy Day."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Your Song

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2011.
> 
> Songs belong to their writers and performers. Torchwood and its delightful characters belong to someone else, too. Thanks for sharing.

This is Your Song

_______________________________________________________

“Never in my wildest dreams,” Captain Jack Harkness murmured to himself, “not if I lived a million years ....  Nothing could’ve prepared me for this.” 

Eyes riveted to the small stage in the karaoke bar, he ended up on the receiving end of more than one elbow as people jostled to get around him.  _Not my fault my feet stopped here, he thought.  I’m in shock.  I may never get over this.  I may just stand here until the city falls down around me.  Or at least until I have to go to the bathroom._

It was nearly 2 AM, making it a very early Saturday morning to be on the job but Torchwood wasn’t really a nine to five gig.  Aliens had so little respect for union regs.  Not that Torchwood was unionized – now there was a thought:  danger pay, time off for Weevil-related injuries, benefits to include a workplace pet from a long extinct species.  It would have been just another late work night if Ianto had answered his phone when Jack started trying to reach him at 10PM.  Ianto not answering his phone was something else Jack just wasn’t prepared for, and, mother hen that he was, Jack rather freaked out when he still hadn’t had a callback by midnight.  Ianto *always* answered when he saw Jack’s number on call display.  Or he returned the call within a few minutes.  Or texted to say he’d be in touch as soon as he could. 

In his wildest dreams Jack could come up with lots and lots of wacky things, scenarios that went beyond anything your average human being could dream up as entertainment.  But by midnight, lifetimes of experience or not, infinite trust in Ianto or not, all he could think was that something had happened to the younger man, something nasty, something nightmarish.  And that was something Jack couldn’t deal with, in his head or in reality. 

He knew Ianto was out for a night with some old friends, could assume that Ianto truly meant to take a night off and forget about Torchwood.  But he just couldn’t fathom Ianto forgetting his phone or turning it off.  It just didn’t fit with the man he knew.

 _Although, Jack, you’re being a bit of moron here,_ he told himself. _How well do you really know him if you didn’t know he could do *this*?  You’ve seen him fall apart at the seams when he comes, you’ve seen him cry when he wouldn’t let anyone else even know he was upset.  Shit, you’ve even seen him totally lose it when he got majorly angry.  But you didn’t see this coming at all, did you?  Never had a clue._

Passion.  It comes in many forms.  As he stood there staring, Jack realized that.  And he realized that what he was seeing was simply another manifestation of Ianto’s passionate nature.  It floored him every time, making him stop and take yet another look at the love of his life.  _Goes to follow, he realized, I should have known he’d have a wild child in there somewhere amongst all those other depths._

Didn’t stop him from gaping like a twit. 

Until, “Oiy, mate, d’ya mind moving yer fancy coat and yer ass outta the way, then?” someone asked in a rather peevish tone.

And Jack got his feet moving, finding a place to lean against a wall, eyes still glued to the stage.  Actually, his ears were finding a lot to enjoy, too.  _He’s good, really good_ , and Jack felt himself start to smile like the proud fool he was when it came to Ianto.

He leaned back to enjoy the show.  Some women at a table in front of the stage were going apeshit, yelling and whistling, woo-hooing like crazy.  _Ianto Jones, pop star_ , Jack thought and couldn’t help but smirk.  Ianto wouldn’t appreciate the label.

Oh, this was too good.  Jack pulled out his phone and started taking pictures.  Ianto was going to have a hard time getting Jack to call him something other than “Pop Star” with these photos to back up the claim.  _Maybe I’ll just.... yep, lemme record a clip or two._

There was no rush, after all.  Calling Ianto at ten on his Friday night out had simply been an attempt to handle a little work matter as soon as possible.  If Ianto had been able to give Jack the information he needed, it would have been one less thing to deal with later on.  Plus, Jack wasn’t used to an evening without Ianto anymore.  He sometimes wondered how he’d managed B.I. – Before Ianto.  So, yeah, work had been a bit of an excuse.  Not that he needed an excuse to call his lover.  Did he?  Seeing as he had been about to interrupt Ianto’s night off and night out, he rather thought he did.  And now he was going to need an excuse for being here, for keeping track of Ianto, for basically spying on him.

 _Lucy, you got some s’plaining to do,_ Jack thought. _I may actually be DEAD dead if he gets angry enough.  He might kill me with his phone somehow when he finds out that not only do I keep track of him through the GPS on his phone, but that I also put a tracking device in his wallet, just for good measure._

Christ, the place was going mad.  And deservedly so.  Ianto had put on quite the spectacle.  He even had backup singers.  And the whole lot of them were obviously drunk off their heads.  In tune, but each with a pint in his hand, Ianto included.  It explained a lot.  Although not Ianto’s outfit, which Jack decided might just replace suits as his favourite thing to get Ianto out of.

Tight jeans, a teal T-shirt, and a brown leather vest.  Simple and completely, enthrallingly, erotic, in Jack’s humble and decidedly expert opinion.   He’d have complete access to Ianto’s neck, be able to feel the muscles in his arms as Ianto held him, just have to pull up the shirt a bit to caress his stomach, pop the button on the jeans to make them both crazy....  And Jack was ready to grab Ianto and demonstrate just how appealing he found this side of his lover’s personality, not to mention wardrobe.

He watched Ianto work the little stage, listened to him belting out something he was pretty sure was a Bon Jovi number.  Jon Bon Jovi would have been proud.  Or jealous.  At that thought, Jack lost a minute in time as his head filled with images of the three of them in bed:  Ianto, Jon, and Jack.  It was one of *the* most carnally delicious visuals he’d ever come up with, one he would savour at some length someday.  Maybe when Ianto joined his family for their week-long annual reunion and Jack did nothing but wait for him to come home between bouts of Weevil catching.  And not the fun sort.

Back in the real world, Ianto was singing something else:

I want you to want me.

I need you to need me.

I’d love you to love me.

 

 _Whose song is this?_   Jack couldn’t remember.  He knew the tune, some of the words, knew he’d heard a few versions of it, but he liked this version best.  Ianto really gave it his all.  

 

And Jack decided to go join the screaming women at the table in front of the stage.  So what if Ianto would rip him a new one for tracking him down?  He’d forgive him sooner or later when he realized that Jack had done it out of concern, right?  Jack wanted to be Ianto’s groupie, he wanted to applaud and let Ianto know that, even this, this part of himself that he no doubt was embarrassed to share, Jack loved.

He wasn’t exactly dressed to blend in, greatcoats not being the outfit of choice in the bar.  And so Ianto easily spotted him as Jack weaved between the last few tables before the stage.  And he kept singing.  He kept the beat.  _Nothing throws him, does it?_ Jack marvelled.  Not wanting Ianto to think they had an emergency on their hands, Jack smiled up at him and nodded reassuringly.

The song ended with a few repetitions of the chorus and by this time everyone in the place was singing along.  Ianto was, and there was no other way to phrase it, hamming it up somewhat.  When Jack stopped a few feet from the edge of the stage, arms folded across his chest, Ianto came right up to him, dropped to his knees and sort of begged/pleaded/sang out the lines:

I want you to want me.

I need you to need me.

I’d love you to love me.

 

 _I’m not that easy to embarrass, sweetheart_!  Jack grinned up at a sweaty Ianto and blew him a kiss. 

 

Both the backup guys and the crowd let loose with catcalls.  “I’d wet meself if he sang to me!” a woman next to Jack commented drunkenly. 

“He does get the juices flowing, doesn’t he?” Jack answered her and she went off into peals of giggles.

Up on the stage, Ianto had picked himself up and was saying, “Some prat out there asked us to sing this, so here we go.  Don’t shoot me, I didn’t choose the song.”

If Jack hadn’t been prepared to see Ianto fronting a boy band, he sure wasn’t ready to hear them sing what had been a hit for a girl band a few years back.

 

Looking back on where we first met,

I cannot escape and I can’t forget.

Baby, you’re the one, you still turn me on,

You can make me whole again.

 

And, corny or not, Jack felt his heart melt even as his cock strained in his trousers.  The song featured some spoken-word parts and Ianto’s accent turned those lines into an aphrodisiac that mainlined right into Jack’s hormonal system.  Adding the song’s sentiment to the situation only fuelled his internal fires and once again he reminded himself to look up the punishments for lewd behaviour, because, one of these days, he and Ianto were going to end up in jail for having sex in public.

His gaze met Ianto’s and Jack couldn’t stop himself from moving forward the few remaining steps until he was right at the edge of the stage.  Once again, Ianto sang the end of the song right to him.  So Jack leaned forward, grabbed Ianto by the vest, pulled him down a bit, and planted an emphatic kiss on his smiling mouth.

If the women behind him had been revved up before, they were combustible now.  Jack thought he’d go deaf, the screaming was so loud.  He let Ianto up and they grinned at each other like fools.

“Ianto!!  What the fuck?” That mildly aggressive inquiry came from one of the backup singers and hard on its heels were other comments and questions.

“Guys, this is Jack,” Ianto said somewhat abashedly, “my fiancé.”

And all of a sudden the only noise at the front of the room came from the happy, drunken women.

“Jack, these are the guys – Gus, Nate, Shaun, Alistair, and Craig.”

The guys mumbled _hello_ s and _pleased-to-meet-you_ s but it was obvious they were flummoxed, exchanging glances amongst themselves, glances that featured raised eyebrows and questioning looks.  Jack just smiled and left it to Ianto to sort out since they were his friends.  And, yes, Ianto hadn’t lost his usual aplomb, but he did look at little uneasy.

“Look, we’ve got one song left.  Mr. Yu requested “Someone to Watch Over Me” and Mrs. Yu wants “The Man I Love-“

And here Ianto was cut off by a couple of fake coughs from his friends and sometime backup singers, not to mention Jack’s laughter.

“-AND,” he continued rather emphatically after giving Jack a _look_ , “I happen to know a mash-up version, so I can do both in one go.  If you guys want to help out, then fine.  If not, well, I hope you stick around, have another pint.  Get to know Jack a bit, maybe let me explain ....”

A tall, skinny Chinese man was poking Ianto in the shoulder all of a sudden and Ianto turned to address who Jack could only assume was Mr. Yu.  The backup dudes nodded rather stiffly at Jack and resumed their positions, microphones in hand.  Ianto finished up with Mr. Yu and turned to face the audience, who seemed to have hit on the right night to frequent this place, alright.

“Right, well, then,” Ianto began.  “This is a little different.  Thanks everyone for being so good to us tonight.  I hope we’ll all,” – and he paused to look around inquiringly at his friends, “I hope we’ll all be back here as usual in six months or so.  Mr. and Mrs. Yu, here are your songs.  I hope you like them and will invite us back.  And thanks for the drinks!”

And he started to sing.  There was no music, just Ianto’s voice.  The audience was silent, the atmosphere a 180 degrees from the party ambiance of a few minutes ago.  Not heavy, not sad, just mellow and expectant.  And Ianto’s voice took those expectations and created something haunting and lovely out of two classic songs.

It seemed effortless when his friends joined in with harmonies, a cappella.  Jack could only suppose that they had sung together for years, there was no other way to explain the perfection.  Certainly Ianto had not been scarpering off for secret practice singing sessions.  Jack knew better, knew that both Torchwood and he, himself, kept Ianto too busy for that.

There’s a somebody I’m longing to see,

I hope that he’ll, turn out to be,

Someone to watch over me.

 

Segued naturally into:

 

Some day he’ll come along,

The man I love.

And he’ll be big and strong,

The man I love.

 

Jack loved these songs, some of the first he’d heard when he landed on this planet.  He loved to listen to them, to sing them, to flip mentally through the memories attached, remember the people he’d lived, worked, and loved with.  And here was Ianto making this music even more precious than before.  He knew he’d be asking for lullabies.  _Lullabies featuring Welsh vowels._

 

Problem was, Ianto’s singing so turned him on, he wouldn’t be getting to sleep so much as getting ready to jump his bones.  Thank God this was a problem they could handle together.  _Heh heh_ , Jack smirked to himself.

The applause was generous and the guys left the stage to a chorus of _bravo_ s and _well done_ s.  Ianto turned to find Jack right away, taking his hand and leading him to a corner table.  Judging from the empty glasses, this had been his group’s table for the evening.  Ianto drained the glass he still hand in his hand and then waved at a passing waitress for another round.

When everyone had a seat and a glass, there was a bit of staring as well as quite a lot of not knowing where to look.  Obviously, the guys weren’t yet sure what to make of the situation.  But it seemed that Gus was the spokesman.

“Ianto, mate, look, no offense to you or to your friend,” he pointed in Jack’s direction with his chin, “but we’re just a bit confused, y’see.  Kinda threw us, you did.”

Ianto leaned back a bit in his chair before he answered, “I know.  And I *am* sorry.  It’s just ....  Well, it’s not the easiest thing to talk about is it?  I mean, we meet a couple times a year and it’s all drinks and a bit of a laugh, a few songs.”

“Right, but we *do* manage to let each other know we’re getting married.  Or having a kid.”

“So it’s the getting married bit that’s got you then and not the fact that I’m marrying a man?”

“Of course it’s the fact that you’re marrying a man!  For Christ sakes, Ianto!”   Craig had a really deep voice and Jack figured he’d been the one hitting the low notes on stage.

Ianto’s eyes flicked to Jack’s.  Not sure what he had to offer except his support, Jack smiled and offered, “They’re your friends, Ianto.  No need to be scared, they’ll listen.”

If his words seemed to buoy Ianto and they also served as a gentle reminder to the other young men at the table about what friendship entailed and even hinted that Jack believed Ianto deserved the best out of those he called friends.

“Look, I am truly sorry not to have told you about .... this.  But at first, well,” and Ianto actually squirmed in his seat, “I didn’t know .... I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever been, y’know, into men.  What was I going to tell you?  It’s not something you go around telling your mates, is it?  And even so, well, when we met up last time, Jack and me, it wasn’t official or anything.  It just kind of happened.”  He seemed to run out of steam and looked at his friends for some sign of understanding, something to say that they were with him.

Silence.  But it wasn’t unpleasant, just a little awkward.

Looked like he’d have to say something after all; Jack couldn’t stand seeing Ianto hanging in the wind like this.  Squirming in his chair?  *This* is what made Ianto loose his cool?  Well, this and Jack’s touch, Jack’s kisses, Jack’s mouth....  He dragged his errant mind back out of the gutter it dwelt in.

“Maybe everyone just needs a little time to absorb things, Ianto,” he put in.  “You gotta admit, even you didn’t see me coming!  Give them time to let it sink in.  I’m sure I’ll charm them in no time!”

And, as he’d intended, Ianto was now smiling. 

“Oh, did I mention?” he asked the table at large.  “Jack is the most modest man on the planet.  And very, VERY shy.  C’mon, guys, help put him at ease.”

Jack snorted.  “Ianto, love of my life, pot, kettle, and all that.  After what I saw on that stage tonight, there’s no way you’re getting away with giving me attitude tonight.  After you’re done apologizing to these guys and you’ve invited them all to the wedding, you’re going to have to start apologizing and explaining to me about this secret life you’ve been leading.”

“Life?  I take one night off, Jack, one night!  Well, two actually.  I’m telling you now that I’ll be doing this again in six months.  Two nights does not another life make.”

“Don’t care.  I still want an *apology,*” and Jack drawled out the word, heaping it with a meaning that had Ianto squirming in his chair for all the right reasons.  Not to mention blushing.

He looked hurriedly around the table, afraid that his friends would be running for the hills by now.

There were more not-knowing-where-to-look looks, but both Shaun and Alistair were grinning.  They’d always liked giving Ianto a hard time, the gits.  Looked like they were on Team Jack.

“A Yank, eh?  My, my, Ianto, the surprises just keep coming.”  That was Gus again, but he was smiling as he said it, raising his glass to Ianto in a mock toast.

And with that, Ianto could relax again.  If Gus was good, then all was well.  If the others had been uneasy with the night’s revelations, they’d follow Gus’s lead now.  It had always been that way, right from the first day they’d met in school.

Jack reached over and before Ianto knew it, they were holding hands.  Again, he tensed up, looking for negative reactions.  But all Jack had to do was wink and say in a loud aside, “See?  I told you I would charm them.”

And he had and they were.

 ____

“GPS’d me, then?” Ianto asked as they ambled together back to where Jack had parked the Torchwood SUV.

Jack glanced sideways at him, not sure if Ianto was angry.

“GPS and ....  And I put a tracking device in your wallet.”

They covered half a block before Ianto offered any answer; Jack thought it was the longest two minutes of his very long life.

“You always manage to find the strangest ways to show you care, Jack.”  Ianto sidled in and slid an arm around Jack’s middle.

Phew.  Relieved, Jack reciprocated, managing to slide his arm under Ianto’s leather vest and they walked on.

“You didn’t answer your phone.  I know I over-reacted but I couldn’t help myself, Ianto.  I kept thinking that something had happened to you.”

Ianto’s grip on his hip tightened.   “I’m sorry, Jack.  It was really loud in there.  I must have missed your call.”

“ _Calls_ , Ianto.  And you have the right to time off, from work and from me.  I don’t want to smother you.  But I am a little crazy when it comes to you, which you damn well know.  I’ll try to keep my imagination in check.”

Ianto was laughing as he turned his head to lean in and smack a kiss on Jack’s cheek.  “Oh, don’t do that, Jack!  Without your imagination, our dabbling wouldn’t be quite so ... innovative.”

Jack pulled them to a stop, a wide grin gracing his face.  “Innovative?  I like that!  But I couldn’t do it without you, Yan.”

“Funny.”

“Thought so.”  And they didn’t so much innovate as practice kissing for a very long time, standing on a sidewalk in Cardiff at three thirty in the morning.

A few days later, Ianto started finding pictures of himself tacked to the front of file folders of Torchwood paperwork, folders of things Jack needed Ianto to file or handle.  Folders no one else would have reason to look at.

The first picture showed Ianto trying to hit a high note, mouth wide open.  The second featured him doing a rock star high kick.  The third had him leaning down to sing at someone on the edge of the stage.

The fourth day, he booted up his computer in the Tourist Office only to find a video ready to play on his desktop.  He had no idea he was such an entertaining performer.

He thanked Jack for the photos and the video, although he wasn’t sure that was the right tack to take.  Still, he didn’t think Jack was trying to blackmail him or embarrass him, so it had to be yet another of his special ways of letting Ianto know he was loved.

Right?

Or was Jack taking the piss?

Friday morning, Ianto found a picture of Jon Bon Jovi in a folder.  On the back of the image, Jack had written, “He doesn’t have anything on you, my star, my idol.  Although I wouldn’t say “no” if you wanted to ask him to join us one night.”

As usual, being in love with Jack, being Jack’s lover, sharing their lives, was very interesting.  Never a dull moment.

So that night, Ianto put on his tight jeans, the teal T-shirt, and the brown leather vest.  Just for fun, he added an earring and some boots.  And then he sauntered into their living room.  Jack went from lying on the couch to on his feet, libido ready to party, in about two seconds flat. 

 _It was hard to have low self-esteem around Jack_ , Ianto thought lovingly as he felt Jack slide his hands down inside his jeans, grabbing Ianto’s ass.

****

****


End file.
